


Sight

by Genuinelies



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Older Edward Elric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies
Summary: Roy is Fuhrer. The strain on his eyes is getting worse. Edward doesn't think that his eyes are the only thing not seeing clearly.Post-series. Older Edward.(Older fic originally posted to LJ - posting here for posterity)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Posted originally to LJ. Older fic.

  
Roy soon discovered he had to aim to the left.  
  
He never quite got the hang of it.  
  
Black Hayate had a singed tail to prove it. Roy hadn't meant to hit the dog at all, only stop it from leaving him a gift in the center of his walk. He'd had to order Riza a new uniform.  
  
In retrospect, he really shouldn't have made the comment about it saving the cost of ordering her a miniskirt, because, haha, that method worked just as well. It even had fashionably frayed edges.  
  
Riza hadn't spoken to him for a week.  
  
Which would have been a blessing, and one that ended far too soon at that, except without her nagging him to read his mail (which she had stopped sorting) he left it on his desk, and when it piled up too high for decorum he shoved it in the drawer.  
  
Which was how he missed the letter.  
  
Which was why Al was on his way back home without Roy at the station, a resignation letter and an automail screw Roy had found under his desk one day the only scraps left of the Elrics that Roy had.  
  
A series of letters followed, in which they politely apologized back and forth for a month before promising each other they'd visit.  
  
In retrospect, if Roy had known to aim a bit to the left, he never would have stopped procrastinating on at least one form of paperwork.  
  
He wouldn't have even bothered to open the unmarked letter he received nearly a year later. Addressed from the last city on the trainline, a three-day journey to Central.  
  
Never would have read a date that had passed, or the words, "I bet you're really old now, huh?"  
  
His timing had always been atrocious.  
  
*****  
  
Not many people were admitted to the Fuhrer's office.  
  
With Roy's aim, Riza almost had a new skirt.  
  
She handed him an address without a word.  
  
"If he wanted to see me, he'd be here." Roy called after her retreating back.  
  
"Your vision never was 20/20, was it?" She answered, but the look she gave him over her shoulder was kind.  
  
The door shut behind her.  
  
Roy fingered his eyepatch.  
  
*****  
  
Ed had told him nothing when he'd left. It had been understood between them, as so much had been.  
  
Hadn't it?  
  
Didn't he understand what Roy's protection had meant? Didn't he know that risking his career had been tremendous?  
  
Ed, who understood most things, surely understood that as well.  
  
Surely he understood what he couldn't have missed seeing.  
  
Ed was kind.  
  
Perhaps he had seen, but didn't care.  
  
Perhaps he had seen more clearly than Roy, that even the most important things sometimes didn't matter at all.  
  
*****  
  
Roy stopped reading his mail.  
  
Riza took to reading it for him.  
  
It was enough to know that he was back. It was enough to know that it hadn't been a mistake, all of it, because somewhere someone more important than them all was still living.  
  
"Al is in town," Riza said.  
  
She placed an invitation on his desk.  
  
He reached for it, and missed.  
  
Hadn't happened in more than a year.  
  
It was too late. Too many opportunities passed. What would he say to them now? They had no reason to talk to him. He had nothing more to give either of them.  
  
"You should see him. It's been a month." Riza said. "I'm going."  
  
She'd been before. She said he looked good, healthy. Happy.  
  
*****  
  
He went.  
  
He was sorry.  
  
They both told stories. They bantered like old.  
  
Like nothing had changed.  
  
Neither mentioned Roy's eyepatch.  
  
Neither mentioned Ed's still-automail arms.  
  
Neither made any reference to the dream that had come before, or the people they were.  
  
"So, Al," Riza said finally in the silence that twined around them, "How is your wife?"  
  
"Oh, Winry's great," Al enthused. "She found how to make the toe joints more flexible, there's this new type of metal..."  
  
They ended by saying it was very nice to see you both, and hasn't the weather been good.  
  
*****  
  
A knock came on Roy's door later that night.  
  
He was sitting in his living room, staring at a cat he'd taken from an alleyway many years ago.  
  
A crack and the tang of alchemy.  
  
A second series to fix the damage.  
  
Roy could see nothing, and he didn't bother to turn his head.  
  
He'd come to - what? Yell at him for not caring for Al? Yell at him for not being able to stop a war, even when he was in power? Letting Al marry the woman he'd always assumed Ed would want?  
  
"I couldn't stop them. They were in love," Roy said flatly.  
  
The cat had run off at the noise. Roy was left staring at a floor he should probably get around to cleaning.  
  
Slim fingers slid underneath the tie on his eyepatch. Startled, he tried to turn, but cool metal fingers clamped on the top of his head, holding him in place.  
  
"I always thought you must be blind," Ed's voice, said, much more softly than any previous incarnation of the man.  
  
The eyepatch was lifted. Roy flinched, and tried to turn again.  
  
"It must be frustrating, not being able to see." Ed said. His voice was amused when it added, "Now it's not my fault that you can't see me because I'm shorter than a speck of sand under your feet."  
  
Roy tried to turn his head again, but Ed wouldn't let him. "Edward -"  
  
"It doesn't really matter now, I guess." The voice mused. "That you can't see. I did what I had to do, and I'm not on your payroll anymore, so if you are still blind as a bat I can just go live with Al, or something."  
  
Warm lips pressed to his eye, and Roy jerked violently backwards.  
  
Ed let go of his head.  
  
Roy scrambled backwards, breathing heavily, sight returned. Edward Elric, more darkly tanned, with a face that was more defined than the boy's, dressed in odd clothes...  
  
Silver glinted on the cushions.  
  
Golden eyes watched him patiently.  
  
Familiar.  
  
Roy saw.  
  
They were afraid.  
  
Underneath it all - Roy saw the components. A barn, a war, all loss and a history he'd never been part of.  
  
"You're blind." Edward scoffed, pleasant face crinkling in an expression that reminding him he /knew/ this person on his couch.  
  
Roy saw disappointment.  
  
Roy saw...  
  
He reached his hand out and cleared his throat. "Please. My eyepatch."  
  
Ed threw it at him.  
  
Roy missed.  
  
Ed's face washed clean, and they both stared at the eyepatch on the floor. Roy's hand was still outstretched, and shaking.  
  
A long moment passed.  
  
The cat came back in, and rubbed on Ed's leg. It ran off when the rubbing failed to procure either attention or a bowl of food.  
  
"I'm sorry about your eye," Ed said softly, looking at him askance.  
  
"It's not the loss I cared about," Roy finally replied.  
  
Amber eyes rose to meet a single pool of shadow. An eye that no longer saw a man on a couch, but a red coat and a swinging flash of gold vanishing into memory.  
  
Ed's face relaxed. He moved forward, and touched Roy's face. A warm thumb brushed over scarred skin.  
  
"Fuhrer." Ed acknowledged, with a smirk.  
  
Roy leaned forward.  
  
Ed pressed a hand gently behind Roy's head, and guided him to his lips.


End file.
